Call Me Clueless

A few weeks ago I was talking with my new editor at Harlequin, and she mentioned the hurricane that was predicted to hit New York that weekend.

“There’s a hurricane?” I asked blankly.

“Yeah. An earthquake and a hurricane in the same week. Can you believe it?”

“There was an earthquake?” I asked blankly.

Where I was, the temperature was perfect, the sun was shining, and the ocean breeze was refreshing. It was October, and Cozumel was welcoming in all its glory. Okay, so there were bad guys with guns chasing my hero and heroine, and they’d had to hole up in a scary-shabby hotel, because the hero’s house had been ransacked, as had the place where the heroine was supposed to stay. Still, it was perfect.

My mantra regarding weather and strife and disaster is:  if it ain’t happening to me, it ain’t happening. I live in my head. I’ve already got responsiblility for entire towns and islands full of people; I control their weather, their strife and disaster. It’s not that I don’t care what’s going on in the real world; I just need someone to tell me about it. I can only follow so many lives at once, and most of those take place in my head. (See my other blog post — — titled Simple Dog and Helper Dog for more insight into the way I function . . . or don’t function, depending on your view.)

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve finished in a scene set in steamy, sultry Georgia or searing heat of midsummer Oklahoma and walked out of the office startled to realize that, in reality, it was winter and freezing cold. Or my characters are struggling through an electrifying storm, and I’m grumbling I can’t find my slicker when I open the door to bright sunshine.

I do try to pay attention to the real world, but the truth is, I like where I live. It’s safe and cozy. I never get sunburned or frostbite. I’m safe from everything but creepy crawlies and lightning strikes. Life happens the way I want it to. And I think I’ll stay.


6 thoughts on “Call Me Clueless

  1. You need to get a real job, girlfriend! *Snicker-snicker* Actually, I know what you mean. Every time i get through a long writing session, I’m always surprised to find myself back in “Kansas”.

    • Can you imagine anyone less suited to a normal job in a normal world? Actually having to remember days of the week and know what time it is? Can you see me at WalMart, Reasor’s or anyplace like that? I’d spend all my time mumbling to myself or sitting on the floor in front of the notebooks and pens scribbling. I don’t think I’d last long. 🙂

  2. I will confess that this has never happened to me . . . but then again if it did, I’m sure the hubby would call the nice young men in the white suites to take me away to visit the rubber room. ..

    • He’d probably get used to it. Bob knows by now that I’m a bit scattered and makes up for it. Of course, his psychology background might help with that.

  3. I think that’s hysterical! I love the idea that you sink so deep into the world in your head that the weather in real life surprises you! Keep doing it the way you do, it’s working. No amount of fretting about hurricanes and earthquakes changes them or the their impact. All we can do is pray. spw

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